


say the skies have never looked so clear

by mysilenceknot



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Canon Jewish Character, Celebrations, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 22:12:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18433133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysilenceknot/pseuds/mysilenceknot
Summary: Freedom is always a cause for celebration.





	say the skies have never looked so clear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misanfaery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misanfaery/gifts).



> this was actually a fic prompt to celebrate the end of the hell show, ebr being free from the hell show, and oliver going to just; fucking die at the end of the hell show.  
> this was trickier to write than expected because it's completely unrealistic for an abuse survivor to suddenly accept that they were abused. it sometimes takes years of work to be able to feel like that word applies or that you can even use that word. but honestly, my friend and I have made dinner plans for when our respective fathers die so it's really not a stretch for a character to react this way.  
> the guy fieri article referenced is [here](https://www.eater.com/2018/4/16/17243580/guy-fieri-actually-doesnt-love-your-diner-food). the edible arrangement is [here](https://www.ediblearrangements.com/fruit-gifts/loving-memories-4151?t=1554946263195). you can learn about Shiva [here](https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/shiva-what-you-need-to-know/).  
> title comes from [At Least We Made it This Far](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TPacqJcZWoc) by Relient K.

“Is this in poor taste?” Felicity asks. It was several hours too late for this question, as an afternoon of tears turned into a night of celebration.

Iris can't help but laugh. “Absolutely. But I don’t give a fuck. And neither should you.”

Felicity laughs along, grabbing a chocolate covered strawberry and sinking back into the couch. She didn’t think it would have been possible for her to feel so light and happy after a funeral. But here she is, hours after her husband has been buried, drinking cheap wine with one of her best friends while wearing a gown, a plastic tiara, and a name tag that Iris had stuck onto her chest that read PROM GODDESS 2 K FOREVER. The absurdity of her life is something she’d had to accept years ago, but despite all of the things that had happened since she got hired by Queen Consolidated, nothing could have prepared her for a night like this.

//

When she’d gotten the news that Oliver had died, she thought her heart was going to stop. She was a widow. Their daughter would grow up with only one parent the way she did. Felicity felt robbed of what little normality was left in her life, all the things she gave up when she agreed to work with the Arrow. The entire project just seemed to take and take and now the man she loved was taken as well.

It was so completely unfair. She knew he’d died to save their friends. That didn’t make his death fair. There was nothing about death that could ever feel fair. 

The news that Oliver Queen was the Green Arrow broke hours after she’d gotten the news. Because of that damn reporter, she had to juggle her grief, funeral preparations, and being hounded by the press. But her friends stepped in to help her at every step of the way. Laurel acted in the role of a public relations specialist, monitoring what information was released and the best ways to protect Felicity before she was ready to make a statement. Nyssa helped take care of Mia, letting Felicity finally break down when she was at her limit. Dinah and Diggle used their resources to close the face files on the Green Arrow, Thea came back into town to help with arrangements, and it felt like everyone she’d ever known brought food over to her place.

Iris had reheated some of that food for their night festivities, reminding her that it would all go bad if they didn’t eat it as soon as possible and yes Felicity barely had an appetite but it would be such a waste to pass on the variety of pastas that were gifted in Tupperware containers.

//

“I can’t tell what’s more impressive, how fast Guy Fieri can scarf down food or how delighted he always looks about what he eats.”

“Does he even have food preferences?”

“Honestly,” Iris says, “if he does, he’s good at hiding it.”

“See, I’m sure a real fan has been able to memorize what each reaction means, but we’re just not that dedicated.” Felicity sighs. “Now that I’m going to have a bunch more free time on my hands, maybe that’s what I’ll do. Become a Guy Fieri super fan.”

Iris lightly punches her in the arm. “Don’t treat Guy Fieri dedication as a joke. He’s a food master.”

“You’re right. Maybe the true form of HaShem is Guy Fieri.” Her attempt at seeming somber is instantly ruined by the grin that spreads across her face when Iris nods solemnly.

Felicity feels so blessed that Iris had chosen to spend the night with her. Feigning exhaustion, she’d managed to convince everyone else that she would simply go home and rest after the burial was complete. But within the hour Iris had shown up and refused to let Felicity spend the day alone. 

“I don’t know exactly what this is like,” Iris had said, “but I know it wouldn’t have been good for me to be all alone after Eddie’s burial.” Unlike the rest of her friends, Iris hadn’t been around very much after Oliver’s passing. Initially Felicity had assumed it was because of the dislike of him that had grown over the years they knew each other, but it didn’t take long to realize that Iris had her own husband to watch out for.

Survivor’s guilt was a bitch. There was no way for Barry or Kara to be able to come out of that darkness alone. They’d been two of the casket bearers, behaving as professional as anyone could while sending someone they’d loved off. But it didn’t take a detective to see the way his death weighed on their bodies. Of course they couldn’t be there emotionally in the way others could. Iris had to be included in that.

Felicity wasn’t raised to believe in an afterlife. She isn’t sure if holding onto a belief of a world beyond makes her feel better or worse.

“I'm gonna Google it,” Iris decides. She grabs her phone from the coffee table, pausing only to dip another pita chip into homemade hummus. Someone from Felicity’s shul had brought it over but at this point Felicity isn't sober enough to remember who.

Felicity watches Guy Fieri take a huge bite from a sushi burrito. “While you're at it, you should look up if I'm required to say kaddish if I'm angry at the dead person.”

Iris doesn't look up from her phone as she responds, “I'm pretty sure that's a question for a rabbi.”

“Rabbi, Google, same thing.” She waves her hand dismissively. “He wasn't Jewish and he did the bare minimum to support my Judaism so it really shouldn't matter.”

“But it matters to you.”

“I guess.” Felicity knows that anger was one of the stages of grief. Of course she’s angry that he was dead - she'd been through this once before with him and the same feelings of helplessness from the past had returned. That anger wasn't what had fueled her current disdain. 

It was the fact that he'd worked his way back into her heart that made her so mad.

//

Felicity had eventually fallen asleep after Iris had come over. What she didn't expect was the feeling of relief that washed over her upon waking. It was as if she'd just submitted her final academic paper ever for a class that had been haunting her for her entire program - as if she'd come out on the other side of some huge emotionally and mentally stressful ordeal. This darkness that she hadn't fully been able to name was clearing up and it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Iris had been in the dining room when Felicity had walked out and asked, “why do I feel so free?” Felicity pulled out a chair to sit across the table from Iris. Iris closed her laptop, pushing it to the side.

“Free in what way?”

“Like. I can do anything I want. I can shave my head. I can talk openly about how much I love women. I don't have to think twice about how I frame my opinions. I don't have to worry about being exploded on. It's as if these possibilities that I denied myself are open once more.”

“Honey.” Iris placed a hand over Felicity’s. “You didn't deny yourself of anything.”

She struggles to get the magnitude of what she was feeling to be understood. “You don't understand. The last time I felt this free is when I left after finding out about William. I've been chasing that feeling for years and it's back.”

“That's good, right?”

“Yeah. Wait.” Her thoughts were jumbled together. Her husband was dead but she suddenly felt lighter than she had in ages. “What does this say about me?”

“That you were in an unhealthy relationship that's over.” Iris sighed. “You know how I felt about Oliver near the end. Maybe you're starting to feel the same.”

Felicity shook her head. “I don't hate him, that's not what this is about. I don't hate him but I'm not afraid of anything anymore.”

“I don't expect you to hate him. I know how much you loved him.”

“But?”

“But, maybe now that you don't have to worry about him everything that you're repressing will come to the surface.” Iris shrugged. “There's nothing wrong with you or how you're feeling.”

Felicity leaned back in her chair. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how much had gone wrong in her relationship with Oliver. Iris wasn't the only person in her life who'd implied that he was an abuser and when she'd looked up signs of emotional abuse there were a lot of things that had resonated, but it was so much easier to not think about it. After all, he could have been so much worse. When Mia was born he was so sweet and tender with them both that any past grievances felt unimportant. And to his credit, no matter how frustrated he was he'd never express it if Mia was in the room. He loved his daughter and…

“He loved me,” Felicity whispered. “He said he loved me and I told him I didn't want to be a woman he loved. But he still loved me.”

“I know.”

“He loved me, but I feel like I can be myself again. It’s so weird.”

“Maybe that’s what you need to focus on right now. Not the relationship or whether or not he loved you or even what he did to you while he was alive. Maybe what you need today is to focus on that spark you’re feeling.”

Felicity was quiet for a moment while she let Iris’s words flow into her soul. There was so much that would need unpacking and since everyone knew that Oliver had been the Green Arrow, she no longer had to hold onto the fear of accidentally exposing something to a therapist. Maybe her rabbi could help give some insight into what was happening and help her work through her thoughts. But Iris was right. When she put how fucked up her reaction was aside, she felt giddy and excited and  _ free _ . 

She stood up from the table abruptly. “It’s not sundown yet so it’s technically still Shabbat. And technically now that he’s been buried I’m supposed to start Shiva, the first even days of the mourning period. But technically I'm not supposed to start Shiva on Shabbat. Which means,” and at this she began grinning, “I’m allowed to do whatever the fuck I want.”

Iris grinned right back at her. “Party time it is.”

//

Felicity’s thoughts are interrupted by a squeal of delight. “Apparently some of the chefs can tell if Guy Fieri isn’t blown away by their food.”

“Oh my god, what?” Felicity leans over to look at Iris’s phone.

“Yeah, if you do end up watching his stuff closely there are certain phrases he uses if he loves something or finds it merely okay.”

“Guy Fieri is truly one of us after all,” Felicity concludes. “Whoever came up with edible arrangements was a genius but there should have been more grapes and less pineapples.”

“Cisco told me that the enzymes in pineapples break down the proteins in your tongue and that’s why your mouth feels tingly when you eat them. Science is a nightmare,” Iris says as she takes a bite out of a piece.

“Hey now, don’t insult my backburner relationship. Without science,” Felicity gestures to her face, “how would we ever have been able to put glitter into everything?”

“Trial and error?” Iris suggests. She stands up with a small grunt, grabbing the empty bowl on the table to stock up on more chips. “Can I get you anything?”

Felicity leans over the couch to watch her. “I’d ask for more wine but I have a feeling you’d say no.”

“Your feelings are right!”

“Ugh. There’s ginger ale in one of the cupboards, I think.” She turns back to the tv. “I can’t do Guy Fieri any more, I’m sorry, I just can’t. Time for the Property Brothers.”

Iris groans. “Really? There isn’t anything else on that you’d rather watch instead?”

“Listen, my party, my rules. Thank you,” she adds when Iris hands the opened can of ginger ale to her. 

“Fine, fine.” With a huff, Iris drops back onto the couch. 

They sit in silence for awhile, watching Drew politely try to convince a couple that his brother had the wrong idea about their dream home. Felicity sighs and leans her head to rest on Iris’s shoulder. She pokes at the name tag that she'd created for Iris that reads HER EXCELLENCY THE COURT JESTER. Deciding to make the impromptu party an "we're all grown up and can drink at prom now" celebration still cracks her up, an idea spurred from trying to remember what the happiest early non-Oliver memory she could think of was. “That dress looks fantastic on you,” she says.

“Thanks! You look pretty great yourself.”

“I’m serious, you look hot as fuck.” The alcohol is finally making her tired and her filter is beyond gone. ”Honestly? We should have just gotten married instead. Screw that double wedding, Oliver and Barry could have lived in happy matrimony.”

“How dare you threaten my husband like that.”

Felicity snorts. “Okay, okay, sorry. I just can’t help but think how much differently my whole life could have turned out.”

“That’s perfectly natural. But despite everything you still turned out pretty damn good. And I’m proud of you.”

“Awww. I’m proud of me too.” 

Iris grabs her can of Coke and lifts it into the air. “To survival.”

Maybe she'll feel differently tomorrow about her marriage. Maybe she’ll actually reach out to a therapist and let go everything she has been holding inside for nearly a decade. Maybe because of Shiva she’ll do much more to connect to what strands of her faith she has left. But none of that matters right now. What matters is she’s surrounded by love, that Mia will be back in her arms tomorrow, that she put up with a lot of bullshit and made it through the other side.

Felicity clinks her can against it. “To survival.”


End file.
